


A Thousand Days in Hell

by Hipster_Cicero (King_Scar)



Series: Under the Same Stars [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Scar/pseuds/Hipster_Cicero
Summary: Before 1936, I was alone again.America wasn't my birthplace. I was born and raised in Russia, and I continued to live there with my sisters after our parents had died. In all honesty, I would've never left had it not been for Vladimir Lenin and his Bolshevik Institute of Artistic Culture.In America, I found that the immigrant life wasn't nearly as easy as I'd hoped. My sisters and I settled down in a small New York town, where we each found jobs. My older sister, Katyushka, worked as a chef at The Bear and Buck, where she put her culinary expertise to work. My younger sister, Natalia, started out as a journalist, then began writing a very successful mystery/horror novel series.I concentrated on my ballet. I joined the New York Ballet Theater, and soon, "Under the Same Stars" went into production. Within a few years, it was a fully fledged show.But there was one detail I always left out. I never revealed that the story was true, based on my own experiences in Russia, an experience that set my new life in motion.Before 1936, I was alone again.





	1. Prologue

On December 7, 1917, I met Alfred F. Jones, an American pilot stranded in the middle of Russia. 

I had no idea, but that winter night would change my life forever. 

Over the course of two years, as war raged across the globe, Alfred and I found solace in each other. We became each other's comfort, the strongest hopes. 

I called him my sunflower, the brightest flower, my shining light. 

He called me his hero. 

When he left, I poured all my energy into telling our story. Entitled "Under the Same Stars," I choreographed a ballet in Alfred's honor. 

Before 1936, I was alone, but Alfred made me feel alive. 

Then came the rise of Lenin, and I knew it wasn't safe. Joined by my older sister, Katyushka, and my younger sister, Natalia, I sold my father's old mansion and left for America. 

There, we started our new life. Katyushka took up a job as a cook at a fancy restaurant, where she made a decent living. Natalia became a writer for a local newspaper, and soon, a freelance horror writer. Her books sold like wildfire. 

And I? I trained to become a ballerina. I joined a small ballet company, and, with some creative persuasion, "Under the Same Stars" went into production. 

It was that ballet which pulled my family through the Great Depression. It kept us alive. Even when every cent was gone, our hope was alive. 

All around us, the world was changing. A new villain had risen, one greater than any the world had ever seen, save for Satan himself. His ruthlessness sent the world into madness again. 

I tried to keep him out. I focused on "Under the Same Stars" and nothing else. It was my one consuming passion. 

Everything was perfect. 

And then, on August 14, 1936, I wasn't alone anymore.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how little it takes to remember someone.

**The Man in the Army Uniform**

_July 4, 1936_

Before 1936, I was alone again. 

America wasn't my birthplace. I was born and raised in Russia, and I continued to live there with my sisters after our parents had died. In all honesty, I would've never left had it not been for Vladimir Lenin and his Bolshevik Institute of Artistic Culture. 

In America, I found that the immigrant life wasn't nearly as easy as I'd hoped. My sisters and I settled down in a small New York town, where we each found jobs. My older sister, Katyushka, worked as a chef at The Bear and Buck, where she put her culinary expertise to work. My younger sister, Natalia, started out as a journalist, then began writing a very successful mystery/horror novel series.

I concentrated on my ballet. I joined the New York Ballet Theater, and soon, "Under the Same Stars" went into production. Within a few years, it was a fully fledged show. 

But there was one detail I always left out. I never revealed that the story was true, based on my own experiences in Russia, an experience that set my new life in motion. 

Before 1936, I was alone again. 

\+ + + + +

The crowd fell silent as the orchestra began to play. 

Despite having trained my heart to stay calm, I could feel myself growing steadily more uneasy. The show had to be nothing short of perfect. 

The red velvet curtains parted, unveiling my creation to the public. I'd designed it to look like the alleyway where Alfred and I had first met, and quite frankly, I believe Toris, who created the entire stage set, did a fantastic job with bringing it to life. He truly had an eye for design. Somehow, he had managed to bring my childhood home to life. 

As for the costume, I may have designed it, but Toris hired his boyfriend, Feliks, to actually create it. He designed it to look like a shorter version of my coat, complete with the scarf. It took me a while to get used to wearing, but I soon started to really enjoy performing in it. 

I gazed out over the audience. The only faces I recognized were those of Katyushka, Natalia, Feliks, and Toris, all of whom sat in the same row near the front. Each of them had dressed up as nicely as they could, despite me telling them that they didn't need to do that. 

But as I swept my eyes over the crowd, something felt different. I vaguely felt a fifth pair of familiar eyes watching me. I couldn't pinpoint them, which made me feel more anxious than normal, but I quickly regained my composure. 

_You can do this Ivan_ , I told myself. _Come on now._

The spotlight turned on, and the orchestra began to play.

* * * * *

Act I went without a hitch. The crowd definitely seemed happy with the show so far. 

When the curtains were fully lowered, I headed backstage to prepare for Act II. I didn't need a change of costume. Some of the other dancers did, on the other hand, so I went back with them. 

As I waited, limbering up for Act II, Eduard, the actor who played Alfred, approached me with a worried expression on his face. This was not unnatural - he didn't like me very much, for some reason - but this expression was different. 

"Ivan?" Eduard said. "There's something wrong with the crowd."

" _Da_?" I said. "What is it?"

"There's someone watching you, and I don't mean the performance," Eduard said, his voice going lower. "It's stalker-ish, Ivan."

"This ballet is popular around here, _da_?" I pointed out. "I might just have some fans, that is all."

"No, no," Eduard said. "This guy's different. Look for him again when you go back out. He's a few rows behind your sisters."

"Alright," I assented. Eduard nodded and moved away. 

Intermission ended rather quickly, almost too quickly for my liking. I went back out to start Act II, which began with the visit from _Ded Moroz_ Alfred and I celebrated together. There came a scene where my "sisters" gave each other their gifts. When that time came, I stepped off to the side and let my eyes scan the audience. 

At first, I saw no one who looked too suspicious. Then, I saw a young man with pale blonde hair with a curl sticking up from the back. His purple eyes watched the show from behind his glasses. 

I honestly thought nothing of him - until I looked to his right. 

That _face_ \- it looked so familiar. Glasses, blonde hair mostly hidden beneath some kind of uniform cap, and blue eyes. He wore this dark brown, very official looking Army dress uniform. 

The smirk on his face told me that this man was the one Eduard had seen. 

But where had _I_ seen him?

I looked away from him when it was time for me to return to my part. I still  couldn't help but feel as if he always had his eyes on me, like a magnet on metal. 

Act II went phenomenally well. I especially enjoyed the "fight scene" between me and Mr. Winter, and the audience was in tears when Alfred finally had to leave. My heart soared at the amount of applause the performance - _my creation_ \- received. 

But as the curtains drew closed, I took one final look at the audience. 

There, sitting behind my sisters, was that pair of blue eyes, watching me as the curtains closed. 

\+ + + + +

"Oh, Ivan, that was beautiful!"

Katyushka visited me backstage with a massive hug prepared for me. Tears smeared her make up, but neither of us cared. 

"I can't help but cry, you did so well!" she said through tears. 

"You cry at a lot of things," Natalia replied, entering the backstage area. A moment later, I felt Natalia wrap her arms around me and whisper, "But you still did really well."

We stayed there, embracing for what seemed like forever, until I finally pulled away. 

"Come on, now," I said. "We need to leave before-"

" _Ivan_! There you are!"

Eduard rushed into the room, clutching an envelope in one hand. He ran up to me and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. 

"There's someone," he gasped, "in the audience. He wanted," Eduard took a breath and held out the envelope, "to get this to you."

I took the envelope from Eduard's shaking hand and stared at it. It didn't say who it was from, only my name in messy cursive. 

" _S-Spasibo_?" I said hesitantly. I opened the envelope and took out the note inside. 

What it said made everything clear.

_American._

_Blonde hair. Glasses. Blue eyes._

_Sky blue._

_That smile._

_"There's someone watching you."_

"Ivan?" 

I didn't hear Katyushka over the blood pounding in my head. I barely noticed her gasp as she read the note in my hands. 

_A hero never breaks his promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOMP THERE IT IS! 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, memories can return, and with greater strength than before.

I stood there, letter in hand, long after everyone else had left.

At this point, my mind was in between blank with disbelief and swirling with a hurricane of questions. My eyes had long since glazed over, so much so that I wasn't able to read the text in the letter anymore.

But I knew very well what it said.

_A hero never breaks his promise._

It was the last thing Alfred had told me before he left for what I thought was forever. Apparently, as the letter and the eyes in the audience had decided to prove to me, I was wrong. 

Of all the things that could happen to me, of course the most life changing event - the most life changing _person_ \- comes back into my life at the most random moment possible. He didn't even give me any indication that he was still out there. For all I knew, he was buried in Manhattan somewhere, or maybe his plane crashed in the Atlantic on the way back. Yet here he was, alive as he could be.

Part of me wanted to punch Alfred for not telling me where he was, for breaking off all contact with me, then showing up out of nowhere. Part of me wanted to give the American a piece of my mind, by venting, incoherent yelling, or otherwise.

But most of me wanted to rush over to my dear Alfred and hold him in my arms, and never, _ever_ let him go again for as long as I lived.

"Ivan?"

Katyushka called out to me from the back of the room. She peeked her head out from behind the half closed door, one hand wrapped around the doorknob, ready to close it behind her.

" _Should we wait for you_?" she asked. 

" _Uh, no_ ," I said, finally letting my aching arm drop to my side. "I'll meet you out there. I just... I'll just pack up first."

" _Alright_ ," Katyushka sighed, worry painted on her face. " _Lock the door behind you, please_."

" _I will_ ," I promised. I offered my sister a wavering smile as she left the room.

The light flickered backstage, giving the once packed theater a ghostly ambiance, something I liked. It felt almost like home.

The home I had to give up.

I quickly changed out of my costume and threw on my normal clothes. I didn't feel too cold, especially considering that it was the middle of summer in America, but at that point, my coat and scarf had become security blankets. I knew that with them on, people might recognize me, but I didn't mind. I'd become rather fond of signing autographs for fans.

As I changed, I could've sworn I heard a chuckle. It was the laugh of a grown man, but something about it felt childish. I moved the curtains to see who might've been there, but the source of the laugh had left the room, the only evidence of his existence being the echoing sound of the door shutting behind him. 

I didn't need to see his face to know who it was, however. I knew that laugh so well.

I threw my scarf around my neck and tied it haphazardly. After slipping my boots on, I walked offstage and moved down the center aisle of seats, half expecting someone to stand up from one of them and call my name. Thankfully, no one did. I went to open the door, but moved my hand away. A strange apprehension hung in the air, something I'd never felt before. I felt like Alfred - or maybe, the ghost of him - might be waiting on the other side.

I pushed that fear away and opened the door. I had to get home.

As expected, no one waited in the lobby. I hastened my stride to get out of the dead theater and practically shoved the door open, breathing hard from relief.

The summer sky, in its attempt to outshine the New York skyline, let its brightest stars go forth in a brilliant display. Cars honked out on the main roads, filling the air with an unceasing cacophony of noise. People jostled all around, pushing each other out of the way as they hurried to their own respective destinations.

Fortunately, I knew Central Park might provide me with a refuge.

I started walking towards the giant sanctuary. But with every footstep, I heard another step that didn't belong to me, and I could tell it wasn't an echo. I looked behind me, but saw no one there. Somewhat skeptical, I continued walking, only for the footsteps to follow me. It didn't take long for me to begin speedwalking, before eventually just full on running towards the park, looking for a place to hide.

Finally, after a few minutes of frantic sprinting, I stopped at the edge of the massive park. I looked behind me to see no one, and the footsteps had vanished. I breathed a sigh of relief and started walking normally.

Eventually, I came across my favorite spot in the park. A large, gray stone bridge stretched over a lazily moving river, where I often saw people sailing little canoes beneath it. In the daylight hours, swans often floated through the water. Now, none could be seen.

I climbed the bridge and looked into the water. The city lights provided more than enough illumination for me to see my reflection. I had bags under my eyes, and my face looked... tired. Not the tired from not getting enough sleep. It was a different kind of tired.

I stared at myself for the longest time, letting the sounds around me wash together into a drone. Then, one sound, a human voice, an oh so _familiar_ human voice, broke the drone and made my heart stop.

"Hey there, Ivan."

I wanted to believe it. I wanted to, but my mind refused to understand my heart. Slowly, I turned around to face the source of the voice.

There, with his professional brown military uniform, blonde hair, rogue cowlick, soft, smug smile, and impossibly beautiful blue eyes, stood someone who, for the longest time, was merely a ghost in my memories.

"...Alfred?"

I heard the click of his dress shoes against the stone as he came closer to me. Oh my, how he'd _grown_. He was much taller now, though I still had to look down to see into his eyes. His babyish, round face had hardened into a more adult look, a strong one, one that showed that he'd definitely changed. Yet under all of that, I still saw the same, adorable youth that drew me to him all those years ago.

"So many years," Alfred smirked, "and you still wear the same old coat and scarf."

I couldn't help but laugh. Yes, that was the same Alfred I'd once know, alright.

"It's good to see you again, big guy," he smiled, and with that, he threw his arms around my neck and hugged me with almost bone crushing strength. It took me by complete surprise, but soon, I found myself hugging back, burying my face in his neck.

" _Ya skuchal po tebe_ ," I whispered.

"I missed you, too," Alfred said.

He lifted his head, and, for the first time in what felt like centuries, we kissed, gentle and soft, under the same stars which had watched over Alfred and I as he'd promised that one day, we'd see each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to didgeridoo music while writing this.
> 
>  
> 
> Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> So, yeah. I've lapsed back into the Hetalia fandom. This is the result.
> 
> I'll try to write this as often as I can for you guys. You deserve it.
> 
>  
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero

**Author's Note:**

> The long awaited sequel to "A Minute in Heaven" is finally here!! 
> 
> I was gonna post two days ago, since it was my birthday, but I'm currently working on a major film project, so... oops. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


End file.
